Everything Reminds Me of You

We are on “W.” I’ve chosen Garth Brooks’ “What She’s Doing Now.” Also, as an extra, we’ll have “Happy” by Pharrell Williams because the song is mentioned. Yep, quite different songs. 🙂

#AtoZChallenge 2019 Tenth Anniversary blogging from A to Z challenge letter

Everything Reminds Me of You

When you fall in love in a small town, you can’t pass something that doesn’t remind you of your girl and just as quickly kick yourself in the butt for making the wrong decisions and saying the wrong things. Even years later, when there have been other women who warmed my bed, there was only one Tammy.

I drive by her folks’ place, feeling a little like a stalker because I have no business being on this street, but I was walking past the florist and heard that song she loved, “Happy.” An image of her popped into my head. She was sitting in the passenger seat of my old truck dancing while sitting, laughing, with her arms gyrating. I laughed too because she was funny and cute, and I loved the hell out of her. And I never thought it would end. But it did five years ago when she made me angry and I said, “I’m never having kids. And I’m not getting married at 21 so don’t try to trap me into marriage because it won’t work.”

I said a few other things I wasn’t proud of, but I could see, when her jaw dropped and tears filled her jade colored eyes, that I’d accused her of considering something pretty bad. Several times I tried to apologize. Several times I failed.

There’s a curvy blond in faded blue jeans walking up their driveway. I slow down, feeling my heart thud in my ribcage. A toddler runs toward her squealing and laughing and shaking her arms every which way, as if she’d just heard “Happy.” Maybe she had. She picks up the toddler and twirls her around and they look like magic there, beautiful blondes laughing in golden sunshine. There’s a dark haired guy standing next to a Prius, smiling as if he’d won the lottery. He did. That could have been me.

With the little girl on her hip, she glances toward me, shades her eyes against the glare of the sun. Like a coward, I press the gas and speed away before she can see what happens to a man whose heart has broken again.


Sascha Darlington

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